Magical Mistletoe
by dracosgem
Summary: Who knew that standing under a bundle of mistletoe could be so tumultuous?  Join Clare Edwards as a journey beneath the notorious Christmas plant sends her straight into the Twilight Zone.
1. Chapter 1

**It's been a while since I've posted anything but I got this strange little idea after watching the _Nowhere to Run_ special (which I found positively amusing- anyone trying to take that movie seriously is seriously dellusional). Anyhoo, I have no idea how long this story will be because, at this point, it's purely gut writing. And although Eclare has officially bit the dust, the Degrassi writers can kiss my ass because I'm still gonna ship it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, I don't pretend to own Degrassi, and nobody will ever hear me claim to own Degrassi, not nobody, not no how. **

* * *

><p><strong>One<strong>

_"Mistletoe- an aphrodisiac or a way to get over your fears?" _

It was just like any other day at Degrassi Community School. Students filed into their respective classrooms and listened to morning announcements, watching the corner telescreens with half-open eyes. Teachers tried desperately to keep their pupils entertained while inundating them with an invective of pointless data. The lunch lady served her customary tuna special, slopping it onto student's trays with a slotted spoon and a counterfeit smile. Indeed, there was nothing particularly special about this day at all. It was just as, if not more humdrum than the one before it…which is precisely why Clare Edwards did not see it coming when life decided to the throw her a head fake.

* * *

><p>"So let me get this straight," Bianca drawled, flicking her long curls over one shoulder, "your boyfriend kisses another girl and you don't <em>care<em>?"

"It's not that I don't care, Bianca," Clare replied as she tugged a book off a nearby shelf, "it's just that, well, I love him. Besides, Jake told me that Alli kissed _him_."

The girls were loitering in the library during a free period- Bianca perched on one of the tables while Clare sifted through the World History section, looking for a book on the French Revolution. After their "wild weekend" in the mountains, the two of them had become somewhat chummy. Well, perhaps chummy wasn't the word. Their relationship wasn't something Clare would deem "friendship", it was more an association that consisted of Bianca buzzing around making off-color remarks before running off to some undisclosed location.

True to form, the older girl barked a cold laugh. "That's not what it looked like to me," she sang.

Shaking her head, Clare gave her companion a bemused smile. "I was standing right next to you, Bianca," she pointed out. "I saw exactly what you did."

Leaning back on her elbows, Bianca's legs dangled indolently beneath the table. "Maybe you saw what you wanted to see, Edwards," she shot back. "You do know what they say about love…"

Clare lifted a brow. "What's that?"

Sitting up, Bianca flashed a devious smile. "It's _blind._"

With that she hopped off the table and strolled towards the library exit. Clare watched her go, a small tinge of annoyance running through her. Bianca always went out with a bang and today was no different, but her barbs weren't usually pointed in Clare's direction. This small turn of events left the younger girl feeling confused. What if Bianca was right? What if she _did_ look at Jake through rose-colored glasses?

"Clare?"

Her head snapped up as a familiar voice called her name. Green eyes met blue and, for just a moment, Clare felt the earth tilt on its axis.

"Oh, hey Eli," she said, ignoring the odd sensation.

"Hi," he replied and gave her an incisive look. "Are you alright?"

Smiling, she barked a small albeit forced laugh. "I'm fine!" she beamed—a little _too _brightly.

Eli's eyes narrowed and he folded his arms. "Look, I know that things are sort of wonky between us but, I can still tell when you're lying, Edwards."

Clare heaved a sigh and dropped her book on Bianca's recently vacated table. She looked at her ex-boyfriend for a moment, unsure of whether she wanted to confide in him about Jake_._She felt weird talking to him about their relationship. No matter how upbeat Eli might seem, Clare didn't want to keep shoving her new boyfriend in his face.

"Um…"

"Way to articulate," he teased, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

She swallowed hard and looked down at her feet. "I was just thinking about Jake," she said softly.

"Oh."

She could hear the disappointment in his voice and she immediately wanted to kick herself. No matter how much Eli tried to play it off, Clare _knew _him- she knew every inflection, every expression, every little tick— their relationship may have been short but everything they had been through made it as long as a life age.

Clearing his throat, Eli shoved his hands into his pockets. "So, what's the problem?" he murmured.

Clare bit her lip and tried to think of the right way to put this. She didn't want Eli to get the wrong idea.

"Well, Bianca thinks he's…" she trailed off when Eli started to chuckle.

"Bianca?" he said. "Since when do you take advice from her?"

Blowing out a breath, Clare threw up her hands. "I don't know!" she groused. "It's just…she was with me when I caught Jake and Alli kissing and she thinks my point of view is biased because I lo…_like_ him."

"You mean, you love him," Eli stated simply.

She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. "I guess but, what if love is blinding me to his faults?"

"Isn't that kind of the point?" he replied in his snarky, knowing tone.

Clare's head dropped and she shrugged. While she certainly agreed with Eli, she couldn't help thinking how she failed to do the same for him.

Once again, he seemed to pick up on her discomfort. "Clare," he said gently. "I know what you're thinking and it wasn't-"

"Okay, did you two notice how batshit crazy my brother's girlfriend went with all the 'Welcome Back Degrassi' crap?" Adam barged into the conversation, tugging his book bag along behind him. "The girl actually _garnished_ the doorways!"

Clare looked to where Adam was pointing and saw that Katie had, in fact, adorned the doorjambs with greenery.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" He looked back and forth between the two of them, a coy expression on his face.

"Uh, no…" Eli hedged.

Adam looked skeptical. "Right, because I believe that," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"We were just talking about my World History assignment," Clare piped up, scooping her book off the table. "Perino is being a complete tyrant—he won't let me write about Archimedes, even though he's my favorite Greek scientist. Eli here was just giving me some alternatives."

"That's a book on the French Revolution, Clare," Adam returned smugly.

"I know that, Adam," she fired back, "it was one of the alternatives that Eli came up with." She glanced at her former boyfriend, who was smirking at her in mild amusement. "Isn't that right?"

He nodded in agreement. "Oh yeah…I figured Clare- Reign of Terror- perfect match," he teased.

She narrowed her eyes. "Very funny, Eli."

"I thought so," he shot back and waggled his brows.

"Okay, French Revolution, we get it," Adam cut in, "now back to how my brother is dating a psychotic banshee…"

Clare snorted. "_Banshee_?" she squeaked. "I'll have to circle _that_ one around the Daily's news room."

"Seriously you guys, this is nuts. Not even Holly J took the time to embellish the frickin' doorways—Katie Matlin is beyond Type A."

"So, does that make her Type O Negative?" Eli deadpanned.

"Were you jokes this bad before you were on medication?" Adam huffed, tugging on the lapel of his jacket.

Eli grinned. "Probably not," he admitted. "I guess that's one benefit to being crazy—I can blame my idiosyncrasies on the meds."

Feeling awkward, Clare shifted from one foot to the other. She couldn't get over how easy it was for Eli to discuss his problems. In retrospect, it was somewhat admirable. He had always been the type of boy to put it all out there, to wear his heart on his sleeve. At times she wished she had the same capability, it would certainly make things easier on the relationship front—no games equaled no drama—but Clare had slipped into unknown territory and she didn't quite know how to find her way out . Where she was once open and direct, now she felt like she had lost herself somewhere along the way. She suspected this was why she clung to Jake as hard as she did…and why she had run away from Eli.

"Hey Adam!" Drew Torres poked his head through the library entrance. "You think you can do me a favor?"

"Depends on what the favor is," Adam drawled and crossed his arms over his chest.

Drew shot his brother a withering look. "Katie asked me to round up some students for the Degrassi Daily's back to school feature," he announced, "and I told her you'd be more than willing to help."

"Uh…no," Adam contested, "but thanks for thinking of me."

The elder Torres stepped into the library, all evidence of irritation draining from his face. "Come on dude," he pleaded, "Katie's wound really tight with all this presidential crap." Drew ran a hand over his perfectly gelled head of hair. "I _need _to help her relax. _Please_ Adam…just do this one thing for me."

"X-Box rights for two weeks," Adam declared, buffing his nails on the front of his bright red polo.

Drew blew out a heavy breath. "Fine," he grunted. "Now come on…_all_ of you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Eli stated, holding his hands up in contention, "you made that deal with Adam, _not_ us."

"Really Eli?" Drew bit back. "You're _really_ going to make me bargain with you?"

Clare looked at her ex and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He wore a mischievous expression she knew only too well.

"Nah, watching you squirm is enough for me," Eli replied with a wink.

Adam barked a laugh and Drew shook his head. "Nice," he averred and then looked at Clare. "Any razzing you want to send my way, Edwards?"

She tried to keep the smile from blooming across her face but, it was all for naught. "I'm good, Drew," she replied. "Besides, the last thing I want to do is get on my editor's bad side."

"Cool, thanks Clare." Drew blew out a relieved breath and cocked his head toward the hallway. "I think Katie managed to round up Jake for the photo, too."

Clare dropped her book on the table and scampered towards the exit, suddenly oblivious to everything but her boyfriend. "Oh really?" she asked. "Where are we taking the picture?"

"By the school entrance," he replied with a knowing smile. "Come on, I'll show you."

With a wave of his hand Drew turned and began to schlep down the hallway. Clare, Adam, and Eli followed at his heels and eventually made their way to the front of the school. When they got there, they discovered Katie and Marisol sprucing up the front doors with an absurd amount of foliage. Bianca and Jake stood by, watching the two girls bicker over where to hang a mammoth sign reading _Welcome __Back __Degrassi!_ in huge, block letters. Their expressions were identical—stoic disbelief—and Clare couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. It looked like a Degrassi Power Squad Pep Rally had exploded all over the front entryway. Besides the alien quantity of plant life and the behemoth sign at the center of the girls' tug-o-war, there was also a wacky assortment of ribbons in the school's customary blue and gold, a preposterously large golden Panther positioned by Simpson's office, and a telescreen with a running news ticker flashing the latest Degrassi bulletin. Looking around with wide eyes, Clare had to admit that Adam had a point about Katie Matlin.

Jake glanced at her and smiled. "Hey," he whispered, sliding an arm around Clare's shoulders. "I'm glad Drew found you."

She smiled up at him in return. "Me too, though I'm not so sure about this photo op. How long have they been going at it?"

He rolled his eyes. "A while…"

"Would you freaks make up your minds, already?" Bianca spoke up. "Some of us have places to be."

Katie shot the girl a scathing look but managed to keep her tongue in check. "Look at the bright side, Bianca, at least you got out of class for this," she pointed out.

"Yes, but I'd rather be doing something _worth_ my time," she remarked, a wicked smile splitting her swarthy features.

Katie opened her mouth to retort but Drew stepped in. "Why don't you hang it in the middle, between the doors? That way we get a full view of the lobby when we take the picture."

Katie reluctantly agreed, turning her attention back to the task at hand. Marisol helped her hang the sign where Drew had suggested and, once it was straight, they stood back and admired their work.

"It looks great!" Marisol proclaimed eagerly.

Katie turned to face the Daily's photographer. "I want the photos to be candid," she clipped, "I prefer to have it look like everyone is going about their business—posing looks too fake."

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you honey?" Bianca cut in.

Lifting her chin, Katie ignored the insult and gestured to the front doors. "Alright, everyone act like you're just coming into school," she instructed. "Clare and Jake, why don't you set up near the Panther," she pointed to the stuffed mascot with a finger, "Eli, you and Bianca position yourselves by the doors and Adam, you and Drew sit on that bench." Katie held up her hands like a movie director, measuring the space while she inspected the arrangement. "Okay, Jake I want you to look down at Clare affectionately and Clare, you do the same…"

"No problem," Jake drawled—his tone was playful and it made Clare giggle. Hoisting his book bag over one shoulder, Jake placed a hand on her arm and looked down at her with a sweet expression. Clare gazed back at him, quickly losing herself in his eyes. They were a dusky viridian, demure and understated—much different than Eli's vibrant green—but she had grown to love them, nonetheless.

"Perfect!" Katie commended. "Now Adam, I want you to read your comic book and Drew, toss a football into the air while you chat with your brother." Facing the two remaining students, she gestured at the entrance. "Bianca, I want you to walk a step behind Eli as you come through the double doors."

"Good thing, I don't want anyone to think I'm dating Dr. Doom," she teased, shooting Eli a mocking smile.

He lifted a brow. "Excellent point, Bianca…people see me walk in with you, they might think I've relapsed."

"Ha! Good one, man!" Adam laughed and the two boys gave each other a quick fist bump.

"Alright, alright," Katie yapped in an amused voice, "everyone set up in their respective places. We need to get this done before class lets out."

"Maybe if you hadn't spent thirty minutes arguing over a stupid sign, we'd have more time," Bianca replied, smoothing the front of her school skirt with both hands.

Katie's face went pink and she closed her eyes. "_Bianca_," she gritted out, "you come through the doors three seconds after Eli. Everyone else make like you've just come back to school and you're ready for a great new year!"

The Daily's photographer began to snap photos as Katie continued barking orders. Jake and Clare made subtle movements as they flirted; Adam and Drew spent their time razzing each other- one brother mocking the second's nerdy comic book habit, the other poking fun at how the first threw a football like a girl; and Eli and Bianca made a continual loop through the front doors until Katie finally announced she had the perfect shot.

"Okay, that's one photo," she said with a wide smile, "only three more to go!"

The rest of the students groaned as Katie began to re-position them. They spent the next half hour in various locations, mooning for the camera and trying to live up to Katie's anal-retentive- not to mention impossible- standards. Once they had finally gotten the last photo, their new president surprised them with a final request.

"I want you guys to pose together," she said softly, "any way you want."

Glancing around, the students congregated under the doorjamb and began to strike silly poses. Eli got down on his knees and folded his arms while Adam climbed on his shoulders, thrusting his hand up in a "rock on" gesture. Drew hugged his girlfriend as she joined him for the photo and they stuck their tongues out at one another, unable to keep from giggling. Bianca stood next to them, a hand on her hip and a sultry look on her face. Finally, Jake grabbed Clare and dipped her, mimicking the infamous Ticker Tape Kiss. She laughed as he leaned her backwards and her eyes roamed to a spot just above his head. She caught sight of a familiar looking plant adorning the Degrassi entryway—it was green with a myriad of pearly white berries.

"Hey, isn't that mistletoe?" she asked just before Jake's lips descended on hers.

In a flash, the entire world went black and the other students screamed as a gust of wind whipped through the lobby. Clare opened her eyes but all she could see was darkness and, as she tried to makes sense of what was going on, she began to realize that _she _was the one making the sound. Oddly, Jake's hands were still wrapped around her waist and she could vaguely make out his ragged breathing.

"Jake?" she whispered. "What's happening?"

A baritone chuckle reverberated around her and Clare began to struggle as cold panic welled in her gut. The hands that had coiled around her body tightened and she groaned in response. Tugging her arms, she realized that they were bound above her head. This information sent her into a state of shock and she shrieked, kicking her legs out in an attempt to dislodge the person who held her.

"Now, now," a deep voice reproved, "you know that fighting will get you nowhere."

"Let me go," she cried. "I can't see anything!"

"Mmmm, we discussed a safe word Miss Edwards and you decided to use it."

"What?" she hissed. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You _know _the rules," the man countered loudly.

"I…I'm sorry," she stammered. "I can't remember th-them."

The man was quiet for a moment and she swallowed hard, praying that he wouldn't hurt her.

"Seeing as this is your first time, I am willing to overlook it," he stated finally and began to undo the apparatus that encircled her head. "But next time I will not be so lenient. We can only accommodate those who are interested in going the distance."

Clare squinted as the man lifted a strange looking helmet off of her face. Blinking, she looked around and tried to make sense of what was going on. She was lying on a gurney in a bright, white room, a number of computers surrounding her bed. Clad in white underwear and a cotton bra, a series of electrodes dotted different parts of her body and the "hands" she felt gripping her waist were actually two silver belts securing her to the mattress.

Letting her head fall sideways, Clare got a look at the man who had spoken to her. Long and lean, he donned a white overcoat and had a dark, moon-shaped face. A patch of white fur dusted his chin and he tugged at it, a wrinkle in his leathery brow.

"Where am I?" she asked timidly.

"You don't remember?" the man replied.

"No…" Clare rubbed her aching biceps.

"Miss Edwards, you came to me a month ago requesting to take part in this experiment," the man stated. "You asked me if I could help make your dreams a reality and I have attempted to do so, but your use of the safe word gives me pause."

Clare shook her head in confusion. "I really have no idea what you're talking about!" she declared. "One minute I was standing in the hallway of Degrassi Community School and the next, I'm in some strange laboratory covered with electrodes!"

The man leaned forward and smoothed a hand over her forehead. "Clare," he said softly, "you were never _at_ Degrassi Community School."

She frowned, unsure of what he was getting at.

"You're thirty two years old," he went on, his formerly stern expression soft, "you graduated from Degrassi thirteen years ago."


	2. Chapter 2

**Merry Christmas! Here's a present in the form of Eclare fanfiction. Now, keep in mind that the next few chapters might invoke some major Clare hating but, remember that everyone reacts to turmoil in their life in different ways. Eli hoarded, had mental breakdowns, etc. Clare's reaction is bitter resentment which is certainly justified in her mind, even if it makes her do some pretty questionable things. We all go through ups and downs so try to give her the benefit of the doubt. As you know, my fanfics are all about self-redemption, anyway. If there were never any shitty behavior on a character's part, coming clean wouldn't be so awesome. Keep the faith and, sorry if this is a bit rough.**

* * *

><p><strong>Two<strong>

Dr. J.F. Marley was the lead psychologist at the Toronto Psych Institute, an establishment renowned for its research in neuroscience. TPI had made the latest advances in cognitive psychology and Marley was specifically responsible for introducing its most recent experiment, a study in "dream memory". According to the doctor, it was this particular trial that Clare Edwards requested to take part in.

"You came to us six weeks ago," Dr. Marley announced, handing Clare a mug of hot tea. "You read about my research and felt compelled to contact me."

Clare cradled the mug in her trembling hands and looked around her in disbelief. She was seated on a couch in the physician's office, curled in a fluffy white bathrobe. The place was welcoming, with warm rustic furniture and a mottled caramel coloring the walls. Degrees hung in triplicate behind Marley's desk and a wide expanse of windows lit the right half of the room.

"I don't understand why I can't remember any of this," she spoke up. "Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

Marley rubbed his jaw in deliberation. "I'll admit, it is something we've yet to see from the other test subjects," he stated. "However, this _is _a neurological study that deals explicitly in memory. We cannot pretend to know what the brain will and will not do."

"Can you explain what the experiment is for?" Clare replied. "And why I would want to take part in it?"

Sitting down behind his desk, Marley leaned back in his chair and threaded his fingers under his chin. "The experiment is referred to as D.M.E.—Dream Memory Enhancement," he said in a clinical tone. "Its purpose is to allow the test subject to relive specific events in their life in an effort to change them."

"_Relive_?" Clare cut in. "I was lying on a table in some random laboratory—that's not exactly reliving something."

The doctor nodded in agreement. "This is true, however everything in life is a matter of interpretation," he rejoined, "this experiment allows a person to delve into their memories in order to change their outcome. In turn, this changes life in the present day."

"How can changing my memories change my reality?" Clare lifted a brow in contention.

"You build your life according to perception, Miss Edwards," Marley explained. "How you see yourself directly affects how you interpret the world. This experiment allows you to grow and change by skewing self-perception. Essentially, it gives you the ability to modify the events you deem responsible for your current unhappiness."

"But they aren't _really_ modified," Clare argued. "The people involved will still see the situation as it actually happened!"

"Duly noted," the doctor replied, "but just as you interpret the situation as negative, others involved may not necessarily feel the same way. They might perceive the memory as an event that led to a positive change in life."

"Yes, but it doesn't give me the chance to reconnect," Clare averred, raking a hand through her curls in frustration. "What's the point if I'm not getting closure?"

"You _are _getting closure," Marley pointed out. "Changing the memory allows you to move on with your life."

Clare blew out a heavy breath. "Am I really that unhappy?" she whispered.

The doctor gazed at her for a moment before scooping a small book off of his desktop. Coming around to the front, he leaned back against the polished wood and clasped the leather-bound volume to his chest.

"You've had a difficult run, Miss Edwards," he murmured, his voice a tender overture. "Before you began the experiment, we asked you to document the memories you wished to change in a journal." He held up the book and Clare realized that it was her diary. Although it was much thicker, she would recognize that purple spiral pattern anywhere.

"I do not think it appropriate for me to inform you of your past," he continued and handed her the journal. "But I believe this will give you the answers you seek."

"Thank you," Clare replied, tucking the diary up under one arm.

Marley nodded. "Why don't I show you to your room?" he suggested. "Seeing your things might help jog your memory."

The doctor led Clare down a long, white corridor with a series of silver doors. He explained that each of the test subjects were cohabitating in a dormitory, though the living quarters looked more like a psych ward to her. As the neared the end of the gleaming hallway, Marley gestured to a room numbered 37.

"This is where you've been staying." He opened the door and stepped aside, giving Clare access to the tiny room.

She slipped through the opening and looked around. A small window hung high on the mint green wall, trimmed in metal and wire. Just beneath it was a tiny cot and metal filing cabinet that doubled as a nightstand. The room was very industrial and had no embellishments whatsoever—no pictures or personal touches. Clare turned a complete circle as she eyed the contents of the dorm, before facing the doctor in question.

"Where are my things?" she asked.

Marley raked a hand through his snow-white hair, looking a little uncomfortable. "All you brought with you was the journal, a few outfits, and a stack of booklets, which I believe you keep in the filing cabinet," he proclaimed and pointed at the scuffed metal cupboard.

Clare ambled over to the cabinet and opened one of the drawers. Inside was a stack of books, including a small photo album and a _Degrassi 2013_ yearbook. Startled, she dropped her diary on the cot beside her and yanked the yearbook out of its spot at the bottom of the pile.

The doctor cleared his throat. "I will let you have some time to get reacquainted with yourself," he stated.

"Wait!" Clare cried. "Where do we go from here?"

Marley stalled in the doorway. "Well, that all depends on you. If you decide you still want to move on with the trial, I am willing to continue. However, it is ultimately your decision." Gripping the doorknob, he gave her a pointed look. "I will give you until tomorrow morning to make up your mind, Miss Edwards."

Clare looked down at the unfamiliar yearbook and sighed. "I suppose that's fair."

The doctor closed the door gently behind him and Clare smoothed a hand over the large booklet in her grasp. The cover was typical—dark blue leather with the words **Degrassi: 2013** engraved in bright gold print. She cracked open the volume and flipped through the first couple of pages, gasping when she spotted a picture of Alli standing next to Jake. The small girl was wearing a graduation cap and robe. Jake donned dress attire, his arm wrapped possessively around Alli's waist, and they both wore wide, cheesy grins. Clare did not miss the sash draped over Alli's shoulders, signaling that she was Valedictorian, a title Clare had coveted since she was in diapers. Beneath the picture a caption read, _Valedictorian Alli Bandhari with boyfriend and Degrassi Alumnus, Jake Martin._

Clare felt her heart clench. Jake and Alli? It wasn't possible! Jake was _her _boyfriend! Enraged, she ripped through the thick, glossy pages in search of her own photo. As she got to the center of the book, Clare let out a horrified shriek. There she was, standing between Bianca and Imogen looking positively _horrible_. Her hair was long and as red as a fire engine, with a single black streak running down the left side. The Degrassi uniform hung off her frail frame and her skin was sallow, almost jaundiced, with a blaring tattoo sticking out from beneath the sleeve of her polo.

Head snapping sideways, Clare tore the collar of her robe back and yanked the material down. She squeaked at what she found—her left bicep was banded in color and depicted a massive heart with a silver blade piercing its center. Blood leaked from the wound and formed the words _Et Tu_, a reference Clare recognized from Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar. _She frowned and ran her fingers over the tattoo in confusion. She had never thought about getting one, not even when she joked with Eli about matching dragons. What would have compelled her to get it, especially this morbid design? She glanced back at the yearbook and read the caption underneath: _Senior Clare Edwards with Degrassi Alumni, Imogen Marino and Bianca DeSousa._

Flipping through the pages, she looked for more images of herself but all she could find was a generic yearly picture. There was also a small mention of her contribution to the Degrassi Daily, but she wasn't in the paper's staff photo. Clare covered her mouth in disbelief. Why would she quit the paper? She loved writing! None of this made any sense!

She closed the yearbook and placed her head in her hands. Clare was puzzled and she wished to God she could recall what had happened to make her change so drastically. All she could remember was life leading up to her junior year—her parents' divorce, her friendship and subsequent relationship with Eli, her whirlwind romance with Jake, _their _parents' getting married, Adam getting shot, and that notorious weekend at the cabin. Granted, she knew things weren't exactly kosher between all of them but, she really had no idea how things could fall a part to such an extent. What would make her blow off her friends, break up with Jake, and start hanging out with _Bianca _and _Imogen_? Not that either of them were really _that_ bad…it's just that she never ever saw them wanting to be _her_ friend. She always thought she was too saintly and pure.

Looking up, Clare spotted her diary and snatched it off of the mattress. She opened it up and noticed an entry from the middle of her junior year. It was tabbed and circled, with a small note next to it in chicken scratch saying, "First Memory Attempt." Biting her lip, Clare began reading the entry.

_September 15, 2011_

_The first week back at school was fairly uneventful. Things with Jake are going well but I still haven't talked to Alli. Honestly, I really don't know how to feel about her anymore. I wish she had given me a reason for kissing Jake but, instead, she decided to make the entire thing about her. I've noticed a growing trend there. Alli is so wrapped up in herself she never thinks about how her actions might affect other people. She told me I thought that her problems were pedestrian and, in a way, she's right. I get that her problems are big for her but, I guess I feel they sort of pale in comparison to the paradox I call a life. Maybe I'm being a bitch for not forgiving her but I feel I deserve an explanation. I would NEVER go and kiss her boyfriend behind her back. Some things are just sacred. There's a girl code and Alli totally broke it. Maybe it's wrong for me to forgive Jake—according to Bianca, I'm an idiot for doing so—but I kind of understand why he did it. Heck, when I was standing in the woods with Eli, I almost did it myself. It was wrong for me to even think about Eli that way but, I guess I was trying to convince myself that I could move on and act like sister to Jake. In a way, I think he was doing the same. But the thing is, I don't understand why I would use Eli to forget about Jake, not after all the time I've spent trying to get over him. _

Clare paused, feeling somewhat awkward about reading the entry. In truth, she shouldn't feel weird because _she _had written it, but the whole thing with Eli was making her queasy. She could remember precisely how she felt standing alone with him that night. It was as if, for just a moment, time had slipped away and they were together again. Clare had noticed the changes in him since he'd been seeing his therapist and lately—well, not lately, back then—she had even noticed a familiar light return to his eyes. It was a combination of intelligence and amusement, something he had previously reserved for her alone. But now it was gifted to the world, which showed her that he was truly making a recovery. Clare was no longer the anchor holding him steady and that changed things. She was afraid to find out _why_ it did, though. An Eli who could stand on his own two feet was the very Eli she had fallen for and _that_ was disconcerting.

Shaking her head, Clare tried not to think about him any longer. She needed to find out why _this _particular entry was tied to the first memory attempt. Settling into her cot, Clare continued reading.

_Because, as much as I'd like to say that breaking up with Eli was this big relief, it's actually been harder than I thought it would be. Sometimes I'm afraid to be around him. Maybe it's because of all the turmoil we went through as a couple…I suppose that's really the only explanation. He just makes me feel…off kilter. I can't explain why. Maybe that's why I love Jake so much—he's totally different from Eli in every way possible. Light, carefree, and fun…a breath of fresh air, so to speak. He's basically become the one vibrant spot in a colorless world. I mean, he helped me get over an intense relationship _and _he helped me forget about my parents' divorce. I guess that's the thing about Jake—he helps you overlook all the bullshit in life. That's why I've decided to sleep with him. He kissed me today and I knew, knew that he was going to be my first. It was during this photo op that Katie Matlin had us doing for the Welcome Back Degrassi feature in the Daily. Jake dipped me backwards and planted a kiss on me…it was so sweet that I immediately knew he_ _was the one, the guy I'd be with forever. _

As she came to the end of the passage, Clare licked her lips in anticipation. Did she really sleep with Jake? If that were true, why would he be with Alli come graduation? Clare was not the type of person to sleep with someone "just because"—breaking her vow of abstinence was a big deal and she couldn't believe she'd be so careless, choosing someone she'd break up with later. It was supposed to be forever! _They _were supposed to be forever. Her heart began to pound as she flipped to the next tabbed section of her diary. This too was labeled as a "memory attempt", though she assumed it was something Marley hadn't gotten to yet. It was later in the year and Clare noticed a discernible change in her handwriting. It was less perfect and more…hurried, even a little bit sloppy. Frowning, she began to read the contents of the entry.

_December 7, 2011_

_I came home today and found Jake with Alli. He claimed she was helping him study for an upcoming math test—something Armstrong had set up—but I don't believe him. First of all, they both looked damn guilty and second, Alli's hair was a complete mess. Unless they were studying in a wind tunnel, it was obvious they were fooling around. That's fine with me. I'd figured out what Jake Martin was all about anyway. He was the one who rejected me right in the middle of our consummate union, the one who ran off before I could give him my virginity. He says we're just "taking a break" because I've gotten, and I quote, "a little overwhelming". Now that's irony, especially after everything that happened with Eli. Apparently all that forever talk prior_ _to us having sex was too much for Jake to handle. Where I thought we were supposed to be in love, he clearly had other ideas. Stupid jerk. _

Clare's mouth fell open as she got to the part about Jake running off on her. He _left _her just before they had sex? He rejected her in the middle of their tryst? Jake had been telling her that he loved her for months…why would the idea of forever bother him if they were in love? Looking back, Clare realized that she might not have known Jake as well as she thought she did. Biting her lip, she tried to hold back tears of regret as she continued reading the rest of the passage.

_Bianca told me that I should get back at Jake for being such a dickface. She's pushing me to talk to Imogen because she's "damn clever". I'm not too sure about that. Imogen may be quick but she once used her wiles to turn Eli against me- who's to say she won't do it again? I don't know. I'm just so confused. I've been dating some less than stellar guys in hopes of getting Jake's attention. Owen Milligan was the cherry on top of the sundae. We fooled around at the Ravine one night while I was hanging out with Bianca. We got pretty hot and heavy—I let him touch me in some very private places—and when word got back to Jake, he was livid. He cornered me in the hallway later that week and demanded an explanation. I refused to give him one and, today I find him alone with Alli. If Jake wants to play hardball, I'm totally game…and I know just what to do to get back at him. I'm going to sleep with another guy, someone that will really piss Jake off. And I know exactly who that person is… _

Hand flying up over her mouth, Clare's stomach churned as she read the name scrawled in solid, black ink.

_Eli._

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews? Pwetty pwease? Thanks!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, here is chapter three for your consumption. I hope every one had a wonderful holiday! **

* * *

><p><strong>Three<strong>

Clare was so disgusted with the idea of using Eli to get back at Jake that she didn't know how to react to the information contained in her diary. At present, she would _never _consider doing something so vile. Granted, she'd _thought _about kissing him in the woods but she hadn't actually done it. Thinking about something was one thing but making those thoughts a reality was another. Clare had managed to keep herself in check that night but she had still spent a good amount of time beating herself up for considering it. In fact, she felt so bad about possibly leading Eli on that she offered him a ride back to town with her and Jake. Of course, Clare was also grateful that he managed to find her when no one else could. Sometimes she wondered if that fueled her desire to kiss him more than retribution had because, when it came down to it, being alone in the wild was scary. And it wasn't the prowling wolves or the ax-wielding maniacs that bothered her—it was being unaccompanied for the first time in a long time. Clare had to depend on herself for survival and that had been a real kick in the ass. She quickly figured out just how naïve and vulnerable she had become and, for a girl who had always prided herself on being independent, that kind of weakness had really taken its toll.

Eli finding her made things even more confusing. While Jake had spent a good hour trying to locate her, he managed to do it almost immediately. What did that say about them? Clare wasn't sure she wanted to know. Thankfully Jake had stepped in and she didn't have to think about it. He had the uncanny ability to make light of things—even the drive home was comfortable despite being sandwiched between an ex and current boyfriend. _That_ was what puzzled Clare—what could possibly have happened between then and the date of this entry that would cause such a severe fracture in their established boundaries? Dealing with the both of them was progress—_wasn't it? _

Casting the diary aside, Clare lay back on her cot and looked up at the room's coffered ceiling. Her head was spinning and she needed to get her bearings before she continued reading. She massaged her temples and tried to collect her thoughts. It was difficult. All she kept seeing was Eli's face that night in the woods, how he looked at her the instant before Jake stepped in. There was something in his eyes, a flicker confirming the feelings he hid in the daylight. Deep down she knew there would always be something between them but she had spent six months trying to blot it out. Throwing herself into a relationship with Jake was the easiest way- the casual thing had been a good fit after her intense union with Eli. Clare had never expected to _fall_ for him, though after reading her diary she wondered if they ever really loved each other at all.

As long as Clare's memory loss persisted, she realized she might never know. All she had to go on were her memories now and those contained in the journal. Pinpointing exactly what had happened between them was going to be complicated…_unless_ Marley could help her recover the lost memories. Perhaps she could go back and witness the things she was missing. Admittedly, she didn't understand how they could access memories when she wasn't conscious of them herself. She presumed this was a question to ask the doctor come morning. If he couldn't help her, Clare would be stuck with the diary alone to guide her.

She decided to try and get ahead by reading all the entries that preceded their split. Clare spent the rest of the evening flipping through pages, trying to reconnect the dots. By the time 2 a.m. rolled around, she had constructed a timeline detailing the events that led to their divide. It was not long after the infamous photo op kiss that things began to unravel. Since they were stepsiblings and lived together, this made things—according to Clare's written estimation—"proportionally tense". Where at first they thought it would be wonderful, both quickly discovered that they'd underestimated the power of bed and board. You were _always _together and that made it hard to remain objective.

Nevertheless, in writing Clare still seemed head over heels for Jake. Indeed, the longer they lived together, the more possessive her script became. Come mid-October she was practically planning their wedding, never mind that they were still hiding the relationship from their parents. Clare was somewhat startled by the trend that emerged in her musings. She was…controlling, almost manipulative in the way she dealt with Jake. The more she read, the angrier she became with herself. Why on earth would she act like this? She was so preoccupied with building the perfect relationship she suspected she was missing out on life! On top of that, the only friend she ever mentioned was Bianca. It seemed they had become confidants, something not entirely out of the realm of possibility considering their adventure in the woods. There were small anecdotes about Alli here and there- barbs about her being a no good, lying skank or a home wrecking harlot- it was clear their friendship had not survived the fall out of that kiss.

At three thirty Clare finally gave up trying to figure out what had happened. Closing her journal, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and didn't awake until eleven the next morning. A large woman in blue scrubs sidled into the room with a breakfast tray and the sound of it hitting the nightstand pulled Clare from a dead stupor. She sat up quickly and glanced around, pulling her sheets up to her chin in surprise.

"Mornin' love!" The woman greeted her in a thick, Irish brogue. "Dr. Marley asked that I bring ye' some breakfast." She gestured to an assortment of pastries and small carafe situated on the metal cabinet. "He wants ye' to eat up and then meet him in his study."

Clare nodded, her throat suddenly feeling dry. "Thank you," she croaked.

The woman's round face split into a jovial smile. "You're quite welcome, dear," she proclaimed before waddling out of the room.

Rubbing her face, Clare surveyed the room with sleepy eyes. She'd slept hard, with no dreams to speak of. It made sense considering the crazy turn her life had taken these last twenty-four hours. Tossing her blankets aside, she rose from the mattress and stretched her arms overhead. Light streamed in through the tiny window above her and she gazed up at a powder blue sky. There were no clouds obstructing its vivid hue and Clare closed her eyes, basking in the sun's intense luster. She hoped that this was a sign of things to come—that the billows concealing her memories would eventually part and the truth would finally be revealed.

Clare ate her breakfast but was unaware of taste or texture. She was so baffled by the things she'd read in her journal, she barely recognized herself anymore. While she understood that she was responsible for all the things in that diary, she couldn't believe she had fallen into such a poor state of demise. She would have to see it first hand to truly come to terms with what had become of her life. Clare decided then and there that she would continue with the experiment. Even if TPI couldn't clinically restore the memories she'd lost, there had to be a way to reclaim some semblance of a life.

"I've decided to go on with the next phase of the trial." Later that day, Clare was seated in Marley's office in much the same position she'd been in the day before.

The doctor raised his brows. "Have you managed to recover any memories yet?" he inquired.

She shook her head. "No, but I wanted to ask," she paused and bit her lip for a moment, "is it possible for you to access the memories I've lost so that I might reclaim them?"

Marley heaved a sigh. "I wish it were that easy," he replied, "but the brain simply doesn't work that way." Standing up, he began to pace around the room. "Imagine if you will that the brain is less a memory bank and more a receptor. The events and situations you recall in life are not stored _in _the brain rather they are part of a network of consciousness. It is this system that the brain taps into—like waves to a radio—in order to recall a situation."

"If that were the case, why can't I tap into the consciousness of others?" Clare shot back.

"You _can _tap into the consciousness of others," Marley rejoined, his lips twitching slightly. "You are doing it at this very moment."

Clare cocked her head to the side in deliberation. "With you…"

"Precisely," the doctor returned with a tiny grin. "You and I are connected by thought and deed or, in this case, expression."

"I guess what I meant was, I can't recall _your _memories," she clarified politely.

"Ah yes," the doctor replied with a nod, "but you do have access to my perspective. That's all that memories are—a unique means of perceiving life."

Clare frowned. "I'm not sure I fully see what you're getting at," she admitted.

The doctor kneeled in front of her, placing his hands on either side of the couch. "Alright, consider for a moment that the entire purpose of life is learning from what we produce, that is reaping the knowledge of consequence."

She pursed her lips. "Okay, I definitely agree with that," she said.

"Right, so life is just a way of learning what we are and what we can do," the doctor replied. "Memory is how we view something we have created in the past. How we express life now is intricately connected to that interpretation."

"You mean how I look at what happened between me and Eli plays into how I view my relationships now," Clare offered, curling a strand of hair around her finger.

"Exactly!" Marley commended. "And your future will be based on how you interpret present day relationships. This is where we come in—if the present day is hindered by past events we help you change the way you perceive them by altering their outcome." He stood up and looked down the bridge of his nose at her. "Prior to your first insertion, or memory attempt, we had you come into the lab and donate your 'tabbed' memories. We were able to capture and upload them into our system, thereby giving us the ability to simulate the events later on."

Clare gaped at the doctor with wide eyes. "So you snatched my memories while I was thinking about them?"

"That's right," Marley affirmed, flashing a wide smile. "Our database allows us to physically view your memories when you reflect on them. Upon reinsertion, you will experience each memory as you did then—your senses and emotions will be stimulated much the way they were the first time you underwent the event. The difference is, you are aware of the consequences and have complete autonomy to change the situation at will."

Leaning back in her seat, Clare thought about what the doctor was telling her. TPI would allow her to change what she had done in the past—at least in her mind—so that she could move on in the present. It was conflict free, which meant never having to face Eli (or any of her old friends) and never being exposed to the shame of trying to make amends. It was the perfect way out and Clare had to admit, it was very tempting.

"So I can change what happened between me and Eli in that second memory?" she asked in a small voice.

The doctor gave her an emphatic look. "Yes Clare, you can."

A little more than an hour later, Clare was strapped into the Memory Simulator. Squeezing her hand, Marley gave her an encouraging smile before he slid the viewing helmet over her head. She pulled a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to slow her racing heart. The situation was totally surreal—Clare was about to come face to face with a boy she hadn't seen in thirteen years, though technically she had seen him just the day before. Nevertheless, this was going to be _very _different than her first memory attempt. Essentially, Clare was going to be talking her way out of sleeping with Eli! She had no idea where or when she'd be reinserted into the memory and that was nerve wracking.

"All right Miss Edwards," Marley's voice echoed inside her head, "you will experience an odd sensation just prior to being reinserted into the memory. There will be a loud whooshing sound and a bright light. Do not be afraid—just try to focus on yourself."

"O-okay," she replied, constricting her hands in the binds over her head. They were sweating profusely and she blinked her eyes inside the helmet, thrown by how edgy she was.

A few moments passed and, just as Clare began to wonder whether they were going to get started, a loud hiss buzzed in her ears. Her head began to spin and she went rigid as an intense light eclipsed her vision. Clare's mouth fell open but she managed to keep from screaming. This was fortunate because the next thing she knew she was standing in front of Eli. They were huddled on his front stoop and she slowly became aware of the bitter cold as heavy snow fell around them. Clare glanced up and couldn't help noticing the intense look he gave her. It was identical to the expression he'd worn the first time they hung out and she blinked as an image of Eli pulling her forward by the wrists infiltrated her brain.

"I…uh, don't know what to say to that," he stammered suddenly, breaking Clare from her reverie, "but then again, I've always thought talk was highly overrated."

Before she could ask what the hell he was on about, Eli swung Clare around by the lapel and pressed her against his front door. She opened her mouth to object but he silenced her with his lips, which were hungrier than they had ever been. Dumbfounded, Clare tried to push the boy away but he was very persistent, his enthusiasm sparking an odd feeling inside of her. Hot fire ripped through Clare's lower half and her head began to swim as Eli snaked his tongue into her mouth. She was vaguely aware of making a noise—a subtle whimper in the back of her throat—and Eli responded with an excited groan, his hands fumbling with the buttons on her coat. Breaking the kiss, he ran his tongue down the long column of her neck and Clare gasped, her head thumping against the wooden door. She peered around the snow-filled yard, realizing that there was something she needed to do. But as Eli opened her coat and slid his hands in to grip her waist, whatever it was slipped away. His fingers danced along her body and Clare arched forward on instinct, a breathy moan falling from her lips.

Eli peeked at her with a knowing smirk. "I haven't forgotten, Clare," he whispered, nuzzling his face into her neck. "I remember exactly how you like to be touched."

Biting her lip, she hummed in approbation as he smoothed a hand over the flat of her stomach.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, nibbling along her jaw line, "I've missed you so much."

Blinking, Clare tried to catalogue the torrent of thoughts firing through her head. Logic screamed at her to stop but her body—her traitorous, no good body—was unwilling to cooperate. It was strange, almost like she had lost control of her limbs. No matter how hard Clare tried to regain the advantage, her body _would not_ listen. Frustration rang through her like an angry bell as she struggled to overcome her own movements. It was pointless—Clare crumpled into a heap of hormones as Eli's cold palm skimmed up under her shirt.

"Ooh…" she whimpered as he slid his hand towards her breast bone. Eli chuckled lowly and the warmth of his breath on her neck sent a strain of gooseflesh down the left half of her body.

"E-Eli…" Clare managed to squeak out, "I don't know about this…"

Head snapping up, Eli pierced her with his verdigris gaze. "I do," he practically panted and turned the knob on the front door.

Clare stumbled backwards into Eli's house and they slammed up against a wall. Luckily the place was unoccupied as it was just after school and Bullfrog had already left for work. Clare had no idea where Cece was and she didn't bother wondering about it. It was clear that Eli wasn't worried either—he stripped Clare out of her coat and it pooled on the floor by their feet. Scooping her up in his arms, he all but sprinted up the stairs, kissing her the entire way.

They whisked into Eli's bedroom and he threw her on his bed, kicking the door shut behind him. He switched on the radio before slipping out of his shoes, a subdued scream-o melody thumping in the background. Crawling up her body, he looked more like a prowling tiger than a hot-headed, teenage boy. He kissed her and Clare unconsciously worked to rid him of his shirt. She ripped at the braces that hugged his shoulders and laved his neck with her tongue, earning a potent growl in return. She smoothed her hands down his chest and her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned his coal-colored oxford. Clare realized that she was nervous. This would be her first time, after all and she was headed into unfamiliar territory. The finality of the moment caused a deluge of feelings to wash over her—fear, anticipation, lust, love. Her breathing hitched as she recognized that last emotion and she suddenly felt light headed.

_Love? _She _loved_ Eli?

Blinking in succession, Clare tried to wrap her head around this piece of information. Of course she knew she would always love him in a bittersweet, unrequited way but, this was different than that. It felt as though no time had passed at all, that they had never broken up and that Eli had never broken down. Hell, she was having trouble remembering ol' what's his name that came along after their split! Clare bit her lip and racked her brain, trying to recall her current boyfriend's name but, as Eli's hand dipped below her waistline she lost all semblance of coherent thought.

_Jake! _Ten minutes later, Clare's eyes snapped open and her body went cold. The whole sleeping with Eli thing was supposed to be a ploy to get back at Jake! What was she doing? She wasn't supposed to be feeling anything! This was just a ruse, not an affirmation of love for an ex boyfriend who obviously still had feelings for her as well. She frowned as her thoughts turned to Marley and the experiment. Was this meant to happen? Were these feelings what she felt _then_ or what she felt _now_? Clare wasn't sure but she did know one thing—she needed to stop Eli from going any further…and _fast_.

"Eli, wait!" Clare gasped when she saw that he'd divested her of her shirt and was quickly making headway on her pants.

Pausing, Eli's roaming eyes skimmed over her in admiration. "What is it, Edwards?" he purred, a satisfied smile playing around his lips.

Desire shot through her as the sultry timbre of his voice melded with the pounding bass that echoed through the room. Clare's face flushed and she closed her eyes, willing herself to squash these ridiculous feelings and reason with the boy.

"Clare?" he asked, his voice somewhat concerned.

Cracking an eye open, she saw Eli gazing down at her with a worried expression. She felt her heart flutter as he smoothed a hand over her forehead and bit his lip.

"Are you…alright?" he asked.

"I…" she trailed off, struck dumb by his gentle bearing. What was it she was going to ask him? Tugging at her curls, Clare groaned as she tried to figure out why she couldn't seem to keep her head straight.

"Is this about Jake?" She detected a bitter edge to his otherwise mild tone.

"Jake?" She looked up at him in confusion. Her head was a mess of jumbled thoughts and she feared the experiment had fried her brain.

Eli raised his brows. "Yeah, your ex-boyfriend," he replied in an amused tone.

Clare furrowed her brows. Was she going to say something about Jake? It sounded familiar but she wasn't sure that was the reason she'd stopped him.

"Um, I don't think so?" she replied.

Eli flashed a tender smile and ran his fingers along her throat. "Are you afraid of me, then?" he whispered and cast his eyes downward. "Afraid I might relapse, that this might send me back over the edge?" Catching her eye, he licked his top lip in expectation before pulling a defiant face. "I won't, you know. It's probably hard to believe after everything I did to break you and Jake up last year but, I've changed. You were the one who made me understand that I have to take charge of my life. You helped me get through the darkest times Clare and for that, I am very grateful. More than grateful—I'm _beholden._"

She stared up at him in awe, unsure of how to respond to such an admission.

"So when I say that I love you now," he continued on, eyes glittering with affectionate gratitude, "it's not because I need you to keep me straight—it's because you're the most wonderful person I've ever known and I can't possibly live without you."

Clare's heart began to pound as Eli leaned forward, planting warm kisses on the side of her face. "How did we even get here?" she murmured breathlessly.

"You know how, Clare." His hot breath tickled her ear and she felt her toes curl. "We've been playing cat and mouse for weeks. Imagine my lack of surprise when I find you loitering on my doorstep after school." Nibbling her lobe, he hummed in appreciation. "I've dreamt of kissing you like this every night since we broke up, you know. Of course back then it was more about possession but, now it's just about giving you the greatest pleasure you've ever experienced."

Clare shuddered as his heady tone became positively molten and she began to babble incoherently, hoping to distract herself enough to follow through with the experiment.

Snickering quietly, Eli ignored her prattling and resumed his work on her pants. "Maybe it's none of my business," he spoke up suddenly, "but….did you and Jake, you know?"

"N-no…" Clare gritted out as he snaked a hand down the front of her pants.

Realizing that he would be her first, Eli's face became positively blissful. "God, I didn't think it was possible," he admitted softly. "I thought for sure you two had…" He trailed off as his green eyes drank her in with slow precision. "But you didn't…you weren't meant to…"

Clare squealed as Eli abruptly launched himself at her, his mouth devouring hers and demanding kick back. His hands were everywhere all at once and she mewled as he touched her most sensitive spots, fairly certain that whatever had happened with Owen Milligan would pale in comparison. Before she knew it, Eli was edging downwards and tugging on what little clothing she had left. Clare's head fell back against the mattress and, once again, she struggled to gain control of the situation. Looking around the room, she focused on anything but Eli in an effort to jog herself out of this bizarre, hormonal haze. Pilfered street signs, vintage movie posters, piles of comic books lining every corner, as she looked at everything she realized that this _was _Eli. The music pumping in the background, the graffiti on the walls, even the book on his night table…it was all so _him!_

Clare shook her head as she read the title of the novel. "Blood and _Mistletoe_?" she muttered.

As quickly as the memory came, it was lost. Eli's soft hands were whisked away in a cyclone of mental fury and Clare opened her eyes to look on her doctor's befuddled face.

"What happened?" she whispered.

Marley raked a hand through his fleecy hair. "I'm afraid the reinsertion was a failure," he informed her.

"What?" she cried. "Why?"

"Because Miss Edwards, you used the safe word again."

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews, though not mandated, are greatly appreciated! <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**And here we have Chapter Four! Thanks to everyone for reading and for the great reviews!**

* * *

><p><strong>Four<strong>

"There has got to be a reason that this keeps happening!" Clare bellowed as her composure finally cracked. "What's the point of this stupid memory simulation if it never works?"

She paced around Marley's office in harried bemusement, tugging at her curls and wishing she could better articulate how _pissed_ _off_ she was. Clare had wanted to finish that memory. In fact, she had never wanted something so much in all her life. She tried not to think about the implications of her desire and only allowed herself to believe that the reason she wanted to finish was so she could keep the memory from happening.

"Miss Edwards, you seem to forget that _you _are in charge of regulating the memory," Marley shot back in an even tone. "The system in no way affects your ability to move through dreamscape. Everything is in your hands."

Clare whirled around in surprise. "You're telling me that all of that, all of those feelings…they were _real_?" The last word came out as a whisper.

The doctor stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Clare," he began softly, "you have every right to be upset but perhaps you should take some time to think on what happened-"

"NO!" she shrieked, batting his hands away. "I am done with speculation- I want answers! I want to know why Eli would submit to me like that! He was smart, too smart to fall for some heartless ploy."

Marley raised a brow. "Well, you know what they say about love Miss Edwards."

Her head snapped up as the doctor recited Bianca's question from the day before.

"It…it's…blind," she murmured torpidly.

"Yes," he replied, "perhaps Mr. Goldsworthy was merely seeing what he wanted to. You implied early on that he had some mental health issues, correct?"

Clare frowned in displeasure. "So?"

Marley lifted his tawny chin. "Well, according to our former sessions you told me that he became somewhat possessive," he intoned.

She cast her eyes downward and stared at the rug beneath her feet. It was Southwestern in style, with a dark Mojave wave zigzagging through its woven center. The erratic design reminded her of the latter days in her relationship with Eli, as well as her present state of confusion.

Biting her lip, Clare sighed in resignation. "He was manipulative," she admitted, "but he didn't do it on purpose! I think he was just…I don't know. Eli was really messed up and, by the time he crashed his hearse I think that all he could focus on was our relationship. He thought it," she paused for a moment, closing her eyes as the memory of breaking up with Eli pierced her heart, "he thought _I_ was some kind of shining beacon for him to follow and that, as long as he did, he would never go off course."

"And that was inaccurate?" Marley rejoined.

Clare barked a cold laugh. "Clearly," she snapped, more at herself than at the psychologist. "My life was kind of a joke and watching Eli fall apart was like watching my parent's marriage dissolve. It scared me." She looked up at Marley with a furrowed brow. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"It makes you _human_, Clare," he retorted kindly. "Fear is nothing to be ashamed of- it is simply a matter that needs to be dealt with. Perhaps you never really faced what was happening in your life."

"Oh, I faced it alright," she countered wryly. "How could I not? It changed my entire world."

The doctor lifted his hands and made a steeple with his fingers. "Have you ever heard of split personality disorder, Miss Edwards?" he inquired.

Clare lifted a brow. "Uh, yeah…" she trailed off, not quite sure what he was getting at.

"The disorder is interesting," he stated, threading his fingers together, "it's a person's way of compartmentalizing truth. Instead of dealing with it outright, they create another personality to handle the pain of the situation."

Horrified, Clare gaped at him with wide eyes. "Are you telling me I have a split personality?"

Marley chortled, his withered face pulling tight. "Not quite," he reassured her, "but I am trying to make a point. People will do whatever it takes to ignore certain elements of their life, usually those they deem as negative."

She folded her arms across her chest. "You're telling me I'm in denial," she proclaimed.

"I'm telling you that you have yet to reconcile your relationships," he clarified. "Look at what happened today, you lost all sense of control when faced with Eli Goldsworthy. There are deep seeded emotions connected to that boy, Miss Edwards, and you have yet to truly face them."

Later that night Clare lay on her cot, staring at the ceiling above her. A series of shadows danced across the whitewash roofline and she watched them in silent rumination. She considered what Marley had told her and concluded that he certainly had a point. Clare had jumped so quickly into a relationship with Jake that she had no time to reconcile what had happened with Eli. She was beginning to suspect that _this _was the reason she felt so off kilter around him, and why she had blown her top at Above the Dot all those years ago. It was hard for her to reflect on their relationship because frankly, it was painful. Letting go of Eli had been like letting go of her domestic idealism—absolute torture.

Clare shut her eyes as thoughts of her parents' divorce plagued her mind. Everything she thought she knew about family and love was wrong. She supposed back then she believed her relationship with Eli to be different, that she could depend on him to help her through a difficult phase in her life. All that changed as his mental stability began to unravel and, instead of mutual give and take, Clare ended up being the drug. Looking back, she realized that she was the adhesive holding everything together—her parents' marriage and Eli's health. At the time, it scared the hell out of her. So much so that Clare was willing to do whatever it took to maintain balance. She was a child of science and religion- opposing ideals built in systematic truth- and she realized now that her relationship with Jake was just a means of weighing anchor, of maintaining the _illusion_ of stability.

Before getting into bed, Clare read through another section of her journal—specifically the segment that led up to her reunion with Eli. What she found was disturbing. Clare slept with Eli on the _Ides of March, _making him an ignorant co-conspirator in her campaign to hurt Jake. Smoothing her hand over the illustration on her bicep, Clare knew this was likely the reason for her tattoo. She had always had a thing for satire. Nonetheless, the entries she had written before they had sex made her wonder if the choice to sleep with him on such a date was even orchestrated. In fact, the more she read the more Clare was convinced that it was actually by sheer happenstance. While at first her motivation had been to get back at Jake, over time there was a clear recurrence of her feelings for Eli. Perhaps it was because she couldn't remember and she was reading as an objective third party (sort of), but it was clear that Clare _then_ was struggling with how she felt for her ex-boyfriend. One passage, tabbed as her third memory attempt, was particularly interesting.

_February 26, 2012_

_I heard Jake telling Jenna that he and Alli would be hanging out at our house today so I decided to invite Eli over as well. The plan was full proof but somehow it got twisted and backfired in my face. Not because of Jake—everything went well on that front—but because of Eli. I don't know _what_ happened. One minute we're chatting about his latest short story and the next, he's leaning in to kiss me! Of course, Jake chooses that very second to walk in with Alli and all hell breaks loose. It was like some horrible repeat of what happened at the cabin! The worst part is, when Eli tried to kiss me I didn't stop him…and it's not like I knew Jake was going to walk in at that precise moment. _

In the second memory attempt Eli said something about playing cat and mouse. Clare wondered if this was a part of their game, if it even _was_ a game. From what she could see things looked to be spiraling out of control, which certainly explained the closing portion of the entry.

_I'm so confused! This was supposed to be an easy way to get to Jake. Eli was the one person who ever got under his skin and, whether he wants to admit it or not, I saw the look on his face that night in the woods. Jake _did _care that Eli had been the one to find me. He didn't say anything, of course. That's not his way. Jake doesn't deal with things head on. He runs and then tries to make amends later, which is precisely why he tried to salvage our "relationship" after seeing me with Eli. Maybe Jake is more like his mom than he realizes. Instead of sticking around when the going gets tough, he takes off because he can't handle it. _

Clare was astonished by the insight contained in the entry. She had never thought about Jake that way, probably because she was too busy seeing what she wanted to see. In truth, love _did_ blind her to his faults and she wanted to kick herself for letting it happen. One thing she realized after reading the passage was that, even though she and Jake had both been exposed to divorce, their reactions were completely different. While Clare sought structure and foundation, Jake sought liberty from the bonds of love. He _did _love, but only when things were easy. It was clear to her now that playing the field with Jake was impossible—they weren't even on the same team.

The following morning Clare met with Dr. Marley to go over a few things before her third memory attempt. She was nervous because the simulator would put paint to things her journal only touched on. In short, she was going to live through the contents of that entry and deal with the emotional fallout it would conjure.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Marley asked.

Clare nibbled her lower lip. "I'm having trouble with some of the things I've been reading in my journal," she stated.

"Such as?" He gestured for her to elucidate.

Drumming her fingers on the armrests of her chair, Clare tried to organize her thoughts. It was hard as she was still reeling from everything she'd read the night before. "Well," she began, "it seems that Clare…I mean…_I_ was starting to have feelings for Eli again."

Marley nodded his snow-white head. "Yes, it would appear that way, wouldn't it?" he remarked.

"_Appear?" _she repeated, frowning at his word choice.

The doctor blew out a breath. "Yes, Miss Edwards, _appear."_

"Are you _trying_ to mess with my head?" she snapped. "Because I'm really not in the mood."

"I am not messing with your head, Clare," Marley countered as he splayed his palms on the desktop. "I am merely indicating that, because you refuse to face your emotions _now_ it would appear the feelings you felt _then _were a recurrence."

"Huh?" She cocked her head in uncertainty.

"All right Clare, I'll level with you," he stated candidly, "I don't believe you ever _stopped_ having feelings for Eli. You never faced your break up with him—you just jumped into a new relationship with another boy. You buried your feelings for Eli when you started dating Jake."

"No, I moved on!" Clare gripped the armrests until her knuckles turned white. "You can't tell me what I felt! I know that my feelings for Jake were real—I _did _love him."

"I never said you didn't love Jake, Miss Edwards," the doctor rejoined. "I only said that you never stopped loving Eli. It's very possible to love more than one person at a time, you know."

Growling inwardly, Clare shot out of her seat and began to pace around Marley's well-appointed study. The doctor was right, of course, but that made her feel even more off balance. Had she really been in love with Eli all this time and never realized it? Halting in front of the window, Clare's eyes widened as something occurred to her. Jake…was he just a stand in, an understudy? Had she transferred all the feelings she had for Eli to him? Gazing out at TPI's finally manicured lawn, she never felt more alone or confused as she did in that moment. A single tear spilled down her cheek and she wiped it away, stifling a sob that tickled the back of her throat.

"Is that why I felt the way I did yesterday...when I was with him?" she whispered.

"I believe so," he replied gently. "When you love someone, you can't stop feeling the way you do just because you broke up. You have to reconcile your feelings and discover new ways of interpreting them."

She spun around and gave the doctor a pointed look. "I thought that's what the memory simulation was for!"

"That _is _what it's for," Marley shot back. "But you keep forgetting that we don't control your actions in dreamscape—_you do."_

"Great!" she shouted. "Perfect! I messed it up the first time and now I can't get it right the second! You may as well give up on me, doc…I'm a lost cause."

Marley rose from his seat and marched over to where Clare was standing. Gripping her by the shoulders, he faced her with fierce determination. "_No one _is a lost cause," he growled.

"But I can't remember anything! How can I possibly reconcile a life I don't remember?" she cried, palming her face in frustration. "Each memory simulation is like living it for the first time, Dr. Marley. How can you expect me to change it when I don't remember ever going through it in the first place?"

The doctor cocked his head and a thoughtful expression twisted his features. "I would think that would make it easier, Clare," he proclaimed in a solemn voice.

"How the hell does that make it easier?" she snapped, shrugging out of his grasp.

"Because there is no emotional investment," he declared. "You know that it's just a simulation, that it isn't _real, _so why can't you stick to your guns and change the outcome?"

Clare's head dropped and a small sob escaped her. "I don't know," she murmured despondently. "It's like I don't have any control."

Marley took her hands and she marveled at the warmth of his papery skin. "Sometimes, when we refuse to see something, the mind will find a way to make us pay attention," he explained. "I believe that's what's happening now. Because you cannot remember anything subsequent to the photo op kiss, your mental and emotional states have not progressed beyond that time."

She peered up at him through watery eyes. "Wouldn't that make the memory simulation futile?" she mumbled.

"Not at all!" Marley boomed, sweeping a stray lock of a hair behind her ear. "In this case the Dream Memory Enhancement will allow you to face the feelings you have long denied. You can get real closure here, Clare."

She frowned, not entirely certain that she agreed with his perspective. "But, what happens after we finish? I'll still have no recollection of my past other than the memories we tabbed," she rejoined softly. "I'll have no real idea of who I am or how I got to this point in my life."

"That's not entirely true," he said in a convincing tone, "you came to TPI to rid yourself of a past that hindered you—using the diary as a jumping off point, you can fill in the blanks and make the rest up as you go along—_in _the simulator." Stepping back, the doctor fixed Clare with a strong, no nonsense look. "I am willing to continue with the memory simulation, Miss Edwards—as long as you agree to do the work. That means no using the safe word or curtailing to sensory experience."

Clare wrung her hands and thought over the man's proposition. Did she really want to raze her past and start again from here? There were still so many things she didn't know but, ultimately she would have to return to her life—with or without her memories.

"Before I re-commit," she stated in a weak voice, "I want to ask you one thing. The third memory attempt is dated _before _the second—why?"

"Ah, you noticed that," Marley rejoined, a hint of pride coloring his voice. "Why don't you have a seat and I'll explain." He gestured for Clare to sit down on his couch and, once she had settled in, continued on.

"When you think back on your life, try not to see it as a timeline rather, look at it as a map plotting the places you have been. You are constantly moving, Clare, traveling in one direction until you reach a fork in the road. That fork is impending choice. You are faced with option and you decide what to do with it—act or hesitate, stay or go, succeed or fail—you make a decision and the course of your life changes in an instant."

Clare listened intently as the doctor clarified how the system worked. It was amazing how detailed the process really was.

Gesturing with his hands, Marley seemed to get more excited the longer he went on. "Now, consider that each choice you make in life is an 'origin'—the place or point from which another thing originates- that other thing being memory. As you know, our memories are mental snapshots of the things we have experienced in life, a recollection of the choices we made. Your tabbed memories are those you have deemed origins for certain events that occur later on."

Covering her mouth, Clare's breathing hitched as she began to see what he was getting at.

"For example," the doctor soldiered on, clearly encouraged by her reaction, "you believe that your problems now arose from your choice to sleep with Jake."

Clare furrowed her brow. "But, I _didn't_ sleep with him," she pointed out.

"Indeed, but you decided to try when you kissed him that day, did you not?" he fired back.

Her mouth fell open in realization. "You're right!" she exclaimed. "I decided that he was the one when we kissed!"

Marley flashed a small smile. "Precisely," he affirmed, "and this was the origin for latter events, like the choice to use Eli to get back at Jake."

"Because Jake decided to break up with me when I tried to sleep with him," she chimed in.

"And you were under the impression that changing that first memory or, more specifically your decision to sleep with Jake, would allow you to stymie all the events thereafter," he finished, bringing his hands together with a subdued _thwack!_

Clare dropped her head into her hands. The doctor's explanation, though fascinating, was difficult to comprehend. "So now, with this third memory attempt, I'll be trying to keep myself from going to Eli's place on the Ides of March," she murmured softly.

"That's right," Marley rejoined, his voice suddenly grim. "But I must warn you, this is the last attempt we will make to change what happened that day, Clare."

She peered up at him in astonishment. "It is?"

Heaving a sigh, the doctor nodded. "I'm afraid so. We did not tab any other memories because, quite frankly, we didn't think it would be necessary. However, there is one memory that occurs _after _the fact and it may be of use to you."

Clare swallowed hard as faint relief washed over her. This meant she had exactly two attempts left to fix things with Eli…at least in her head. Worrying her lower lip, Clare twirled a piece of hair around her finger and thought over her options. Dr. Marley had a point. If choice was the origin for future events, she would need to make the right one now. But, she wasn't sure what the right one _was_. Nevertheless, Clare did know that she'd rather change her memories now than risk having them come back all at once.

Facing the psychologist, she lifted her chin in determination. "I want to continue," she proclaimed.


	5. Chapter 5

**After a VERY long wait and a couple of private requests for an update...here is Chapter Five! Hope it lives up to expectations. Also, please check out my new online magazine- Be One- which features an interview with Brad Lyons of Oceanship, the artist who composed the music for the infamous "knife scene" in All Falls Down. You can find the interview in the Art & Music section. (Note link: www dot wix dot com forward slash beoneinc forward slash balance)**

* * *

><p><strong>Five<strong>

Clare gazed around the room with wide eyes. Hearty wooden moldings, plush furniture, obscure artwork—it all seemed so _real. _She made a wide arc through the living room and circled back towards the kitchen, eyes scouring her familiar surroundings in curiosity. The house was just as she had left it two days prior…or thirteen years prior, depending on how you looked at it. Smoothing her palm along the island, Clare fingered the various items perched on the countertop: a basket of fruit, paperwork that contained her mother's pristine handwriting, a half-eaten plate of brownies (likely consumed by Jake), and her school backpack. Each item had its own unique texture and she marveled at the simulator's flawless attention to detail. It was very hard to believe that this was all just a figment of her imagination.

After her long talk with Dr. Marley and subsequent decision to return to the simulator, Clare entered the third memory with only one thing in mind: _resolution_. She wanted to succeed in changing the outcome so she could move on with her life. In retrospect, she realized that she would really be building a _new_ existence, one free from the fallout of her past. In this way, she recognized that what Marley said was accurate. Not knowing what had happened was a blessing for it gave her the ability to create newer, healthier memories. All Clare had to do was maintain her resolve with Eli and she would be set.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Loud knocking on the front door jolted Clare from her reverie and she bit her lip in hesitation. It could only be one person and she was suddenly nervous about seeing him. Inching towards the foyer, Clare's breathing became ragged and her heart began to pound. She clenched her fists—they were very moist—and pulled a long, slow breath. She was determined to get through this without falling prey to the temptation that was Eli.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Clare flinched and let out a little squeak as the knocking resumed.

"Clare, are you in there?" Eli's muffled voice cut through the door and she swallowed hard.

"Er, yeah…" she croaked, sounding a little pathetic as she palmed the thin wooden barricade that stood between them.

Eli chuckled wryly. "Were you planning to open the door," he drawled, "or did you want to talk shop through the peephole?"

Rolling her eyes, Clare sighed. "Alright, hang on," she retorted and unbolted the lock.

The door swung open to reveal an extremely windblown Eli Goldsworthy. His clothes were creased, his skin was somewhat damp, and his dark hair stuck to the side of his sweaty face. He had a helmet tucked up under one arm and his book bag was slung over the opposite shoulder. Clare noticed a silver bicycle leaning against the stoop behind him. She blinked in realization, having forgotten that he was biking now that Morty was gone.

"Hey," he greeted her, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Everything okay?"

Clare detected a hint of amusement in his voice and she felt her hackles rise. "Everything's fine," she shot back, "I was debating over whether to let you in or not."

Eli raised a brow. "And why would you refuse to let me in?" he teased, leaning sideways to peer inside the house. "You're not doing anything illegal in there, are you?"

She gave him a withering look. "Of course not!"

He took a step closer. "You _sure _about that, Edwards?"

Clare could feel the blush creeping up her neck and she silently chided herself for letting him get to her. Lifting her chin, she spun around and waved him inside. "See for yourself, Eli."

The corner of his mouth pulled up and he shot her a puzzling look as he slipped into the house. Clare closed the door and proceeded to follow him into the living room. Eli tossed his bag and helmet on a chair and turned to face her.

"It seems you weren't lying—no paraphernalia in sight." He flashed a dry smile. "So what's on the agenda?"

Shifting on her feet, Clare shrugged in hesitation. "Um…I uh..." she stammered incoherently, convinced that she looked like a damn fool. Clare had expected Eli to have some idea of why they were meeting—she didn't realize she would have to come up with something on the spot! Nibbling her lower lip, she scoured her brain and tried to come up with something credible. Eli's eyebrows were well into his hairline by the time she finally managed to spit something out.

"Wii?" Clare figured keeping their hands occupied was safer than sitting on a couch alone discussing literature.

"Yes…" he replied, a bemused expression on his face, "what are _we _going to do?"

She narrowed her eyes. "No dumbass, I meant the Wii," she fired back, "as in video games."

Eli cocked his head in question. "Clare Edwards wants to play video games?" he mocked, his tone thick with suppressed laughter. "Has the world finally come to an end?" Stalking over to the window, he pulled the curtains aside and looked up at the powder blue sky.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

He glanced back at her with a wicked smirk. "Searching for swooping swine," he rejoined sarcastically, "because pigs have_ got _to being flying if Clare Edwards wants to play video games."

Crossing her arms, she gave him a pointed look. "Oh, I get it…you're afraid I'll kick your butt at Wii Tennis."

His face darkened and he dropped his chin in determination. "That a challenge, lady?"

Clare lifted a brow. "You want it to be?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Eli seemed to handle the slip well, blinking a couple of times before giving her the same look he'd worn when he slipped through the door. Wrinkling her nose, Clare spun around and started berating herself for being an idiot. How on earth could she make such a crucial mistake? She was not only flirting with Eli, she had referenced the first invitation he had ever given her! Heaving a sigh, Clare scurried over to the television to set up the game. She could feel Eli's heavy gaze on her back as she dug through a basket in search of the Wii remotes. She hoped he would let her blunder slide—she didn't think she could take dealing with tension for the rest of the afternoon.

"Aha!" Clare bellowed, pulling out the remotes before she faced Eli with a triumphant smirk. "You ready to get your ass handed to you?"

Eli was sprawled on her couch with his feet kicked up and looked somewhat regaled by her colorful language. "Video games _and _expletives?" he proffered in disbelief. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Clare Edwards?"

She winced, realizing that she had let a little of her "older self" shine through. Clare presumed that her recent discoveries were beginning to take a toll on her "teenaged" life. Learning that she was really in her thirties—and a loser, at that—had thrown her for a loop and Clare felt as though she had no control over anything. She also feared what might happen should she let down her guard. The last few sessions had proven futile when it came to dealing with Eli and spunk might be the only way to get through the simulation intact.

Clearing her throat, Clare gave a non-committal shrug. "I guess having Jake around has kind of rubbed off on me," she replied.

The smile fell from Eli's lips. "Right," he averred in a bitter tone, "_Jake._"

Dismayed, Clare chided herself for continuing her quest to become the world's biggest ninny. Since Eli walked through the door she had indirectly referenced their former relationship, proved a shining affirmation of what she was now, and failingly attempted to quash her rampant hormones. She was a complete and utter mess.

"Look," she began as she moved towards the couch and plopped down next to the slighted boy, "I know the whole Jake thing is kind of a sore subject, given everything that happened last year, and I just wanted to-"

"Water under the bridge, Clare," Eli cut in before shooting her a sheepish look. "At least, it is as far as I'm concerned. I hope you can forgive me for the things I did and said. I…was a little messed up and I'm sorry…for everything…"

His eyes were shining with regret and in that moment, she knew his admission was heartfelt. It stirred something inside of her—a feeling long denied—and Clare suddenly had the intense urge to kiss him. Swinging precariously between giving into baser instincts and maintaining her resolve, Clare blinked as a medley of lucid images shot to the forefront of her mind. Eli's lips moving against her own, his hands sliding under the hemline of her shirt, his teeth nipping at her sensitive neck…the memories hit her in a series of waves, one after another after another. Clare felt like a child trying to balance on a teeter-totter—back and forth, back and forth—and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting as emotion assailed her from all sides.

"Clare?" Eli's voice was a mottled whisper and she started when he leaned forward and took her hand. Eyes snapping open, Clare gawked at him in silent wonder, searching his beryl gaze for the slightest hint of mockery. Eli's face was a declaration of open candor, a frank testimonial to his newly rational mind, and her heart began to pound as her defenses crashed down around her. Swallowing hard, Clare's fingers trembled in his unyielding grasp and revealed the true breadth of her anxiety. She looked away, hoping to hide the evidence of her discomfiture, as she was sure it was written all over her face.

"Why don't we forget the video game and talk about my new short story," Eli suggested in a gentle tone. "Dawes is on my case about it and I could really use your input."

"O-okay," she replied, annoyed that her voice sounded so shrill. "What's it about?"

Eli smiled and scooted a bit closer, never letting go of her hand. "It's a take on Moriarty from Sherlock Holmes." His manner became more businesslike as he launched into the plotline, explaining his ideas with a gusto Clare hadn't seen for a long while. "It's about a guy in high school who's actually a criminal mastermind. He manipulates everyone and, before they know it, they're actually doing his bidding."

Clare lifted a brow and he flashed a wicked grin. "I figure it's better to write what you know…"

Chuckling, she nodded in agreement. "Yeah," she rejoined in good-humor, "we know what a criminal mastermind you are, Mr. Fake I.D."

Eli barked a laugh and shook his head. "Hey, I was having a bi-polar moment! It couldn't be helped."

Clare's eyes widened and he snorted at her reaction. "Relax woman, I'm not oversensitive about these things," he assured, running the pad of his thumb down the Heart Line of her palm.

Gasping, Clare tried to yank her hand away but Eli wouldn't let go. She scowled and shot him an admonishing glare, which went up in flames when she spotted the potent look on his face. Eli looked a little riled up, his cheeks burning a light pink as he drank her in, inching forward as he carried on about the short story.

"There's a girl in the story, too," he stated boldly.

Clare shifted in her seat, trying to ignore the heat pooling in her lower belly. "I-is there?" she stammered.

"Yup, an innocent who ends up teaching the villain a thing or two about living," he averred, his voice just above a whisper. "He begins to change and grow, realizing there's a lot more to life than moving people around like pawns on a chess board." Eli squeezed Clare's hand before meeting her eyes. "She's his creative archetype, someone who's dealt with her own trials but still manages to inspire others along the way…she manages to inspire _him_."

Eli's deep baritone had lulled Clare into a state of relaxation and she blinked in succession, trying to concentrate on what he was trying to tell her. The words eventually died on his lips and the pair lapsed into an anxious silence, gazing at one another for a lengthy period of time. As the seconds ticked past, Clare became more aware of a building tension that fired between them. Like a series of synapses igniting one after the other, the air was charged with tangible electricity. It was then that Clare realized what Marley proclaimed was true. She _was _in love with Eli. She had never _stopped_ loving him and her plan to use him to get back at Jake was pointless because, in reality she had been using _Jake_ all along. He was her red herring, the decoy Clare had adopted in order to forget the one boy that truly meant something to her. The same boy she watched fall apart and felt powerless to stop, just as she had with her parent's divorce.

Suddenly Clare realized that sitting there with Eli was nothing more than an exercise in anguish because, when all was said and done, she'd be forced to return to a life that did not include him. Pressing her lips together, she stifled the sob that tickled the back of her throat and vowed to remain steadfast. She could not fall apart—not now—not when she was so close to making things right in her mind.

"You know how I said that I'm writing what I know?" Eli's abrupt inquiry pulled Clare from her abject thoughts and she looked up at him in surprise.

Shaking her head, she re-focused on his question. "Uh…yeah," she murmured.

Eli chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, looking a little squeamish. "I'm sure you've figured out by now who the innocent is," he muttered quietly and looked down at his lap.

Cold sweat broke over Clare in direct ratio to her compassion and she looked away, fighting to maintain control. "Eli..." she warned.

"Clare, don't take this the wrong way," he rejoined in a desperate voice, "I'm not going to go ape shit on you like I did last year. I apologized for that and I meant it. I just wanted you to know that you've been a positive inspiration in my life." Hooking a finger under her chin, he turned her face in his direction. "Believe me when I tell you that my first inclination is not always darkness. Not anymore. I can actually see both sides of the coin and it's important to me that know that."

Tugging at a lock of her hair, Clare felt guilty for trying to blow off Eli's proclamation. "I know you can," she found herself replying, "and I'm really proud of your accomplishments. I know that might sound a little condescending since I'm clearly no angel." He gave her a disbelieving look and she rolled her eyes. "Nuh-uh, you don't get to sugarcoat this, Eli…because we both know you are completely biased."

He threw his head back and laughed—a sound that made Clare's stomach lurch. "You got me there, Edwards," he replied, "but I guess that's what happens when someone loves another person unconditionally. They don't give a flying crap about their flaws."

She stared at him for just a moment, unsure of what to say to that. "I…I guess that means that I didn't really return the favor," she avowed in a remorseful voice.

Clare gasped as Eli leapt across the couch, pinning her back against the cushion and covering her mouth with one hand. "Listen to me Clare and listen good," he growled hotly, "what you did, while at the time was probably the worst thing that could possibly have happened to me, was life altering. If you had never broken up with me, I wouldn't be able to see clear now." Eli glanced at the wall behind her head, looking lost in thought as he soldiered on. "I closed the door to who I am in here," he thumped his chest with his opposite hand, "a long time ago, but you managed to open it—at first, through love and then, through pain. Either way, you opened it. I like to think you did it because you loved me."

Eli dropped his hand from her mouth but he didn't slide away from her. Instead, he hovered against Clare and wore an unreadable expression as he peered down at her in assessment. She gaped back at him with wide eyes, still somewhat shocked by the magnitude of his declaration. Clare blinked when Eli smoothed his palm up over her right arm, his fingers plying her delicate shoulder before clasping the nape of her neck and angling her face upwards. She timidly met his powerful gaze and a strange sensation tugged in her gut. Feeling self-conscious, Clare tried to pull away from Eli but he grabbed a hold of her more tightly and lightly tugged her hair in the process. A breathy sigh slipped from Clare's lips and something flashed in Eli's eyes—_stark _determination. It was clearly obvious and, without a word he leaned down and kissed her.

It was a tender gesture but the action still managed to fling Clare into oblivion. She felt as though she was flying through space, with nothing whatever to ground her. As Eli's lips began to move against hers, she was hard pressed to smother a whimper and he picked up on it right away. Cocking his head sideways, Eli deepened the kiss and his tongue breached her lips. Clare's mind screamed at her to stop. She wasn't supposed to be kissing Eli—she was supposed to turn him down gently and part as old friends. This wasn't going at all according to plan!

"Come in, come in, we've got plenty of food and…what the _hell_!" Jake Martin's angry voice echoed throughout the quiet room and Eli jumped away from Clare as though he had been burned.

Glancing towards the door, Clare saw an incensed Jake standing next to a rather smug looking Alli Bandhari. She felt her face flush in annoyance as the girl twisted her head in Eli's direction, a feral smile spreading across her tawny lips. Jake, on the other hand, fixed Eli with a look of such intense derision that Clare was compelled to speak up on the boy's behalf.

"Was there something you wanted, Jake?" she stated crisply.

His face grew red as it swiveled back and forth between Clare and Eli. "No…I just…don't you realize that our parents could walk in at any time?" he huffed out.

Clare barked a cold laugh. "That clearly doesn't stop you from directing trollops up to your room, now does it?" she shot back.

Alli looked scandalized before she grabbed a hold of Jake's plaid lapel and tugged him towards the stairwell. "Clare makes an excellent point," she snarled, "so let's not waste any time mingling with the peasants."

Jake trailed unwittingly behind her, his expression owlish as he stumbled up the steps. Growling inwardly, Clare crossed her arms over her chest before facing a hesitant Eli. He was seated on the coffee table just in front of her, looking like he had just witnessed a horrible car wreck.

"I think I should go," he stated half-heartedly.

Clare leaned forward, placing a hand on his knee. "I'm sorry about Jake," she replied, hoping to quell any guilt he might be feeling.

Eli shrugged before he climbed to his feet. "No big deal," he mumbled, gathering his book bag off the floor, "I think we were getting a little ahead of ourselves anyway."

She couldn't ignore the disappointment that washed over her and Clare watched in silence as he streaked towards the front door. Grabbing the knob, he paused briefly and tossed a conflicted look over his shoulder. She sat angled on the couch, her hands folded expectantly in her lap, and wore a somewhat hopeful expression. She determined that she probably looked like some kind of Victorian prude who had just been fully ravaged. Eli must have thought so too because she swore she saw a ghost of a smirk creep onto his lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow Edwards," he averred.

And with that, he was gone...and so was her memory.


End file.
